


I Meet the Eyes of a Stranger

by empressearwig



Category: Social Network (2010)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-02-04
Updated: 2011-02-04
Packaged: 2017-10-15 10:00:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,606
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/159679
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/empressearwig/pseuds/empressearwig
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's Mark she dates, but it's Eduardo she sees.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Meet the Eyes of a Stranger

**Author's Note:**

  * For [mozartsfriend](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mozartsfriend/gifts).



> Many thanks to perfectlystill and summerstorm for holding my hand while I wrote this.

The first time Erica meets Eduardo, she runs into him. Literally runs into him. She's on her way out the door of Starbucks and he's on his way in, and she spills coffee on his shoes. Shoes that she can tell just by looking at them, cost more than she earns in a month as a part-time waitress. Shit, she thinks.

"Shit," she says, and then cringes. She really hadn't meant to say that out loud. "I mean, I'm sorry."

"It's fine," he says, waving her apology away.

His voice intrigues her, there's an accent she can't place, but she doesn't really have time to find out what it is if he's not pissed. "Are you sure?" she asks anyway, hoping that he won't change his mind.

He nods and holds the door open wider for her. "After you," he says and she slips out beneath his arm. He steps inside and the door closes behind him. She starts down the sidewalk, already late for her next class, but something makes her look back anyway. She can see him through the glass of the windows, tall and intriguing in that strong, silent, gentleman that only exists in movies kind of way.

Something about him intrigues her, even if she's sure she'll never see him again.

She sees him again.

***

Erica meets Mark two weeks later, at a party she was invited to by a friend of a friend of a friend. She's waiting in line at the keg when he bumps into her from behind. "Watch it," she says, not even bothering to turn around to see who did it.

"I could do that," a voice answers her, "but if I did, it would imply that it was my fault that I ran into you, and that isn't the case. I was pushed."

She blinks in surprise and turns. There's a boy looking back at her expectantly, a sort of cute boy with curly hair, who's wearing a hoodie that's not really party clothes material, and who's practically vibrating with nervous energy. "I'm sorry?"

He nods, looking pleased. "I accept."

"What?"

"I'm Mark," he says. "I go to Harvard."

She has no idea what's going on right now. "I'm Erica," she says automatically. "But really, what do you mean --"

"Where do you go to school?"

"BU." She thinks that he looks disappointed with her answer. "Why, is that a problem?"

"Not for me," he says, and she really doesn't know how she's supposed to take that. "Listen, do you want to have a drink some time?"

There are few things she'd rather do less. Things like going to the dentist. "I'm kind of seeing someone," she lies, starting to turn back around. "But thanks."

"I'll call you," he says and then it's her turn to get a drink and she just sort of waves goodbye to Mark over her shoulder.

She figures she'll never see him again either. She's wrong about that, too.

***

Mark calls her three days later, explaining that he hacked into BU's student directory to get her phone number and wouldn't she like to maybe have a drink anyway. Erica still doesn't particularly want to, but it's sort of flattering that he went to all that trouble just to get in touch with her again. She says yes.

She has a drink with him, and then two days later they go to dinner, and five days after that he brings her back to his dorm room at Kirkland and that's where she officially meets Eduardo.

They're sitting on the couch and not really doing anything but watching Dustin spin in circles in his desk chair when Eduardo walks in the door. Erica recognizes him instantly.

"Wardo!" Mark says, and there's something different in Mark's voice, like he's genuinely happy to see this person. Erica didn't know he was capable of that. He's certainly never sounded that happy to see her.

"Mark," the person she now knows is called Wardo says. He looks at Erica and his eyes narrow with recognition. "I know you," he says, curiosity laced through his voice. "How do I know you?"

"I spilled coffee on your shoes," she says, holding out her hand. "I'm Erica. Still sorry about that, by the way."

"Eduardo," he returns, shaking her hand firmly. She likes how his hand feels against hers, not rough but not smooth either, the way his hand dwarfs her own. He looks curiously between her and Mark. "Are you two..."

"Yes," Mark says, and his arm comes around Erica's shoulders in a very clear, very proprietary gesture that Erica doesn't especially like. "I didn't know you two knew each other."

"We don't," Eduardo says. "Unless running into each other at a coffee shop once counts as knowing someone."

"Oh," Mark answers and the arm falls away, like now she's something he doesn't need to stake a claim to. It annoys her more than the arm had in the first place.

She stands. "I should go," she says, stepping around the coffee table. "I have to study for an exam." She doesn't. She just doesn't want to be there anymore. "Good night, Mark."

"See you," Mark says, and Erica rolls her eyes.

"Would you like me to walk you out?" Eduardo offers when it becomes clear that Mark's not going to do it.

She shakes her head and forces a tight smile onto her face. "No, I'm fine. It was nice to meet you -- for real, this time."

He walks her to the door of the suite anyway, and holds it open for her, just like he had the first time they saw each other. "I'm sure I'll see you again," he says. "Erica."

The entire way back to her dorm, all she can think about is how much she liked the way he said her name.

***

For the next month, Erica dates Mark. It's Mark she kisses, it's Mark she sleeps with, but it's really Eduardo that she _sees_. It's Eduardo that actually listens to her complain about her economics class and offers to help her study for her midterm, it's Eduardo that tells her stories about growing up in Brazil, and it's Eduardo that she thinks about late at night when she should be thinking about Mark.

And it's not as if she doesn't actually like Mark; she does. Sometimes. When he wants to be, he can be really funny and almost sweet, in a fumbling sort of way. But the moments when he wants to be either of those things are few and far between, and even though she shrugs her shoulders and says she doesn't know when her friends ask her why she hasn't broken up with him yet, Erica does know why.

Erica hasn't broken up with Mark because she'd have to break up with Eduardo, too.

She knows that it's only a matter of time before it ends. It happens sooner than she expects.

Erica didn't go to the bar with the intention of breaking up with Mark. She went because it was his idea to go out and do something for a change and she was happy about that.

But halfway through their drinks it becomes clear that breaking up with Mark is something that she's going to have to do and have to do now. She tries to be nice about it, to let him down easy, even if she doesn't really think he'll care about it five minutes after she's gone, but he won't let her. He keeps making it worse, coming up with new ways to insult her and her friends and her life, and finally, she can't take it anymore. No one could take it anymore.

She says it.

"You are probably going to be a very successful computer person. But you're going to go through life thinking that girls don't like you because you're a nerd. And I want you to know, from the bottom of my heart, that that won't be true. It'll be because you're an asshole."

She leaves and she doesn't look back.

Maybe if she had, she'd have seen what happened next coming. She probably wouldn't have, she doesn't think any of them could have. But maybe.

Maybe is the most dangerous word in the English language.

***

As bad as the farm animals and the mocking of her bra size were, it gets worse when she meets Eduardo for coffee two days later.

They meet at the Starbucks where they first saw each other, and he's already waiting for her when she rushes in the door.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," she babbles, dropping into the chair opposite him. "My history professor would _not_ shut up, and then of course I missed my bus, and well, I'm sorry."

"Erica, it's fine," Eduardo says, and he nudges a cup of coffee across the table.

She feels herself start to smile. "Is that --"

He shrugs, looking self-conscious. "I think I remembered what you like. But if I didn't, you should take it back."

She pries the top off the cup and breathes it in, takes a testing sip. The smile on her face deepens. "You definitely got it right. Thank you." She takes another drink. "I can't believe you remembered. I don't think Mark ever remembered."

Eduardo stiffens, just a little, just enough so that it's noticeable and Erica wants to kick herself. It was inevitable that they'd talk about him, she was sure it was why he suggested coffee in the first place, but she hadn't meant to just drop Mark's name into conversation like that. Especially not two minutes after sitting down.

"I'm sorry," she says again. "I didn't mean --"

He shakes his head. "No, if anything I'm the one that should be sorry."

"You don't have to apologize for him. You _shouldn't_ apologize for him. If he wants to apologize, he can do it himself, even though he probably doesn't think that he needs to."

"Mark feels terrible about what he said," Eduardo says earnestly, leaning forward with his elbows on the table.

She snorts. "Bullshit."

"I wouldn't believe it either if I were you," Eduardo says. "But I promise you that it's true."

"Look," she says, "I think it's great that you care enough about Mark to want to cover for him. He doesn't deserve it, but it makes me like you even more. Right now, though, I'm not really in a place where I can be charitable towards Mark Zuckerberg. I'd rather just forget that he exists."

Eduardo nods, slowly. He looks like he's in pain. "I wish you hadn't said that."

She's confused. "Said what?"

"The thing about liking me even more."

And now she's even more confused. "Why?"

He looks away. "Because I don't think you'll like me very much when I tell you that I helped."

She sits back, stunned. Of all of the things that she could ever have expected him to say, that was probably last on the list. "What do you mean you helped?"

"Not with the blogging," he rushes to say. "That was all Mark. But with the website, Facemash, I helped. I'm not proud of it."

She stares at him and it's like time has stopped. She can feel the seconds turning into minutes, and she knows that he's waiting for her to say something, waiting for her to absolve him of the guilt that he clearly feels and that she believes is sincere, but the words won't come. She can't make them come.

In the end, she doesn't try. She pushes her chair back and turns on her heel, practically running for the door. She hears the clatter of chairs behind her, Eduardo calling her name. She doesn't stop.

This hurts worse somehow.

***

There's an email waiting for her when she gets back to her dorm, and half a dozen voicemails and texts. She ignores all of it and crawls into bed, pulling the covers over her head. She wants to go to sleep and pretend that this has all been some sort of horrible nightmare, that she'll wake up and none of it will have ever happened.

She manages to fall asleep, even though her heart is racing and the noise in her head is overwhelming, but when she wakes up, reality is right there waiting for her.

Along with five new messages. She deletes them all.

***

After a week, the voicemails and text messages stop. There's still a new email every day, though, each of them filled with apologies and asking for a second chance. Erica reads all of them, and can feel the ice around her heart being chipped away, day by day, word by word.

On the eighth day, she sends a reply.

>  **From:** Erica Albright  
>  **To:** Eduardo Saverin
> 
> Re: I'm still sorry
> 
> I shouldn't have run out like that and I shouldn't have made you grovel. If you want to get coffee sometime and explain, I promise that I'll listen.

It only takes Eduardo five minutes to email her back, and when she opens it and sees his one word response, _when_ , she laughs.

They agree to meet for coffee the next day at two.

***

Nine days after their last, disastrous attempt at a coffee date, Erica walks back into Starbucks and finds Eduardo waiting for her with coffee again. She takes her time settling into the chair across from him and studies his face. Somehow he looks hopeful and nervous and sorry all at once, and she feels the last piece of ice fall away.

She's going to forgive him. She already knows that. She's already done it.

"Thank you for the coffee," she says, prying the lid off the cup and letting the steam pour out.

He looks rueful. "I'm pretty sure I should be the one thanking you."

She tips her head to the side, acknowledging his point.

"I just want to say, one more time, that I'm sorry. I knew it was wrong and I did it anyway. I hope you can forgive me. And that we can still be friends."

She takes advantage of the opening to ask the question that's bothered her for a week now. The one thing she's never been able to figure out. "Why did you? It just doesn't sound like you, Eduardo."

He hesitates before he answers and when he does, it's not an answer that she was expecting but it's one that she understands.

"Mark asked for my help," Eduardo says.

Erica nods and she reaches across the table to cover one of his hands with her own. "I forgive you," she says.

He squeezes her fingers. "Thank you," he answers.

Coffee turns into dinner and that turns into him walking her back to her dorm room.

He presses a soft kiss to her cheek, and murmurs good night, the words ghosting across her skin. She feels them everywhere, all the way down to her toes.

This could be a problem, she thinks.

"Good night," she manages to say, twisting the door knob behind her and stumbling into her mercifully empty room.

She's not going to feel this way about him. She can't. She won't.

(She already does.)

***

Things between them mostly go back to the way that they were, except there's a giant Mark sized hole in between them. Eduardo comes to one of their weekly coffee dates brimming with excitement about something that he and Mark are working on together, but when he tries to tell her about it, Erica just shakes her head.

It's too soon, she doesn't want to know. Eduardo just nods and asks her if she wants to come to a party at the Phoenix that weekend.

She should have listened to him.

A month later, when Mark walks up to her and asks to talk to her, she's not thinking about what Eduardo mentioned once and hasn't mentioned since, she's not even thinking about the fact that Mark's acting like he wants to apologize and that's not something she's ever seen before.

All Erica's thinking about is that she can finally tell Mark exactly what she thinks of him.

So she does and she sees the hurt on his face, but she doesn't let herself think about that either. She just turns back to her friends and tries to have a good time with what's left of her night.

It doesn't work. And when Eduardo emails her the next day about getting together for lunch, slipping one not so innocent sentence in about how glad he was to see that Mark apologized, she feels a twinge of guilt for not hearing Mark out.

When she answers the email, she pretends like that sentence doesn't exist. Eduardo never mentions it again.

***

After that night, Eduardo starts dating Christy and Erica sees and hears from him less. She tries to be happy for him -- she knows that he, of all people, deserves to meet someone and be happy, but the truth is that she's not a big enough person to do it.

Somehow, somewhere between spilling coffee on his shoes and now, it became something more than a friendship to her. Remembering that it's not is harder than she'd like it to be.

Eduardo goes to New York for the summer and there's no longer an email a day, no more trips to Starbucks at all hours of the day and night. She misses him, but she's glad of the chance to get some perspective, too. They were getting too close, the boundaries between them were too fuzzy, and this gives them a chance to redraw them, to reset things to what they were, what they always should have been. She starts dating a boy named Tim that she met in her economics class last spring, but had always blown off for reasons she hadn't wanted to think about at the time.

And it works, and if she's not happy, she's content, but then Eduardo comes back.

He comes back and without Christy and Erica remembers all the reasons that she liked him before. Still likes him. If she's honest with herself, she knows it never stopped.

She doesn't like being honest with herself very much.

They start meeting for coffee again and if the way he's looked at her has changed, if his hand sits a little too low on her back when they walk down the street together or if they hug for just a little too long when they say goodbye, that's all that happens. It's not anything more than that. They haven't done anything wrong. They're still just friends.

All that changes when he comes back from California.

It's after midnight when he knocks on her door, and she's rubbing sleep out of her eyes when she answers. "Eduardo?" she asks, confused as to why he's here and not on the other side of the country. "What are you --"

She doesn't get to finish her sentence before his hands are on her face, his palms cupping her cheeks and he's kissing her like it's the only thing that's standing between him and the end of the world. She's too stunned to do anything but respond, to rise up on her toes and to tug on the lapels of his jacket to bring him closer. She takes one step back and then two, and he comes with her, curving his body around hers, fitting them together in the way that she's always hoped that they would.

The door falls closed behind them, and the sound startles her enough that she pulls back.

"What are we doing?" she gasps, barely managing to get the words out when he starts to press kisses to her neck. "What's wrong?"

He shakes his head, his face still buried in her throat. "I don't want to talk," he says.

"Eduardo."

When he finally looks at her, there's desperation on his face. "Please."

She can't say no.

She takes his hand and leads him to her bed. In the morning, he tells her what happened.

***

If this were a story about true love, the kind that Disney tells you has happily ever after's and fairy godmothers, this would be where it starts.

It isn't that kind of love story.

There's a few frantic weeks of sex, of holding hands while walking down the street, Sunday morning brunches and actual dinner dates. But then there's also the hiring of lawyers and the filing of lawsuits and scheduling depositions, and the Mark sized hole that had always been between them grows wider and deeper, until it's a chasm that's too far for either of them to cross.

They part as friends and actually mean it, making time in their schedules to meet up for coffee and exchanging regular emails. Eduardo is the first person Erica tells when she gets into grad school at Columbia, and she is the one that he talks to about how much he misses his best friend. From time to time, they still have sex.

After her deposition, Eduardo's waiting at her front door and they both know why he's there. She can feel his breath, hot against her neck as he waits for her to unlock the door, the turn of each key taking an eternity to complete. They don't make it to her bedroom, but stumble their way to her couch, shedding clothes and tripping over each others feet.

After, she says, "We can't keep doing this."

He nods, tucking her hair back behind her ear. "I know."

It is the last time that they do.

***

When they meet for coffee two weeks later, Erica spills coffee on his shoes.

d 


End file.
